


Happy Holidays

by Ceminar



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dubious Consent, Humanstuck, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 04:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3276323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceminar/pseuds/Ceminar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cronus didn’t plan on spending Christmas Eve (and Morning) at the stupid bookstore with his weird ass boss, but when gifts are exchanged after a party, he finds out a lot more than he bargained for when it comes time to give his own ‘Ampora Special’ gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a AU list, ‘we were both working during the holidays but got snowed in at the office au’. Instead of an office, Cronus works with Horuss at a book store.
> 
> This was supposed to be fluffy, but shit happened and it got heavy. Fast. So if you are uncomfortable with mentions of past abuse in physical, mental, sexual and emotional capacities, then I will not be offended if you pass over this fic. There is no explicit abuse going on here, mind, if that does anything for anyone, but there is a part where Horuss opens up a bit about his past 'Love' then piecing together things as the story goes on. For examples of how things might get, I direct you to my fic, prom1ses, for details on the past relationship between Rufioh and Horuss. This isn’t exactly a continuation of it by any means, its just those are the dynamics of his past relationship which leads to his reaction here.

Cronus couldn’t believe his luck. Of course this little hole in the wall of a bookstore would decide to throw a party or their regulars, all 15 or so of them, on Christmas fucking Eve. Because who would expect those bookworms to actually have anything special to do, right? Come around, drink cheap cider, discuss the newest releases, or some shitty show that was too lame for him to even consider watching, exchange gifts while he struck out with each and every one of them.

 

How could they not want a piece of him, though? The man huffed, combing his dark hair back with his fingers since there was no need to bother looking good now. Party was over. Everyone that had come was long gone, bundled up in their coats and scarves, carrying plates of leftover cakes and cookies, maybe a gift as well under their arms, as they drifted to their cars to return to their warm, and most likely empty, homes. Everyone but the Owner, at least. Cronus paused in his sweeping to look over at the gentleman, his form not hard to miss as he towered over the book shelves, doing one last inventory check for… Whatever reason.

 

Weirdo. The corner of Cronus’ mouth turned down in a small frown as he watched the other move, unable to see exactly what he was doing, but certain his lips were moving quickly as he muttered to himself, probably book titles.

 

Don’t get him wrong, though. The guy, Horuss, wasn’t unattractive. He was tall, one of the tallest men Cronus had ever met, standing at 6’5, while the Ampora himself was only 6’ even. His boss was even taller than his father, which was something considering his old man was well into his 40’s and the other was around 23 or so. His features were… Well, average. Dark skin that looked flawless from what could be seen of him, high cheekbones, plump lips, and deep set dark blue eyes hidden behind large, dark lenses.

 

Seriously, his eyes were to die for, but that hair was his major selling point if he ever let it down. The frown twitched up ever so slightly as Cronus remembered the one day the others hair tie broke, how his dark hair fell from its usual ponytail into a long, thick curtain that reached his mid back.

 

Yeah, okay, so the guy wasn’t unattractive at all. In fact, Cronus found him kind of… Appealing… Visually at least. It was just the way he acted that was off-putting. For his size, tall, lithe, and judging by the way Cronus had caught him hauling off a couple boxes of books at a time, strong, he often shrunk back when talking to others, hunched his shoulders, head turned ever so slightly as if he couldn’t bring himself to look at who was talking to him when they spoke first.

 

And then the sweat. It wasn’t too bad, but it was often plain for him to see that being approached by others left him… Moist…

 

Yet there were days when he seemed to take pride in himself. When he would speak to others, his tone was more matter-of-fact over his usual soft-spokenness, almost like he was talking down to them while being polite about it. Honestly, Cronus had overheard a few conversations and left thinking that was exactly what had happened and was even more confused. What was this guys deal?

 

The sound of his name being called by that same soft-spoken voice he was just thinking about pulled him from his thoughts then, and with a quick affirmation, he was back to sweeping. It was getting late, the other said, and the weather was turning bad. There wasn’t supposed to be a storm, but the temperatures were dropping quickly and Horuss wanted to get home before the roads iced over.

 

And Cronus couldn’t blame him. He might have been built for a lot of things, but cold wasn’t one of them. A glance out the window had him pulling at the bottom of his dark sweater as if to fight off the inevitable chill. No way. Not even with all his ‘insulation’ as others liked to call it, cold just wasn’t a friend. He hurried to sweep up crumbs and confetti, emptying the pan in the trash before wiping down the counter and the few tables they had, turning the chairs up to signal he was done with the area.

 

Great. Done. One last look over and Cronus called that he was headed out. Go home, take a hot shower to warm up, crack open a bottle of real cider, and lay in bed and watch bad movies while thinking about how lucky anyone should feel to have him in their bed and how sorry they much feel that they don’t and-

 

What was this box being held out to him?

 

Blinking is surprise, Cronus let his gaze drift up, his heart skipping a beat like he was in one of those stupid movies he used to watch with his loud mouthed friend when they actually met those deep blues and saw they were crinkled up in an almost out of practice smile, his usual glasses sitting atop his head now. After a moment of confusion, the box is shaken at him, the other uttering a simple ‘Happy Holidays’ and something about hard work as Cronus takes it, pulling his gaze away to focus on opening it an-

 

Holy shit. The split second of surprise gave way to joy immediately when the object was pulled out. At first, Cronus had thought the other had gotten him a fucking switchblade, which would have been weird as hell considering the other wasn’t big on violence and all, but closer inspection proved it to be something better. It was a fucking comb. It only looked like a switchblade and that brought the biggest, goofiest smile to the Ampora’s face as he tried it out, combing his hair into a neat little pompadour as he offered his thanks.

 

Shit… He hadn’t expected him to go out of his way for something like that. They weren’t friends, after all. Their fathers were just old friends and he only got the job as a favor when he hit a rough patch. To get something like this, well… It made his fight back tears with an overwhelming feeling of shit. He hadn’t gotten Horuss anything at all because of that, because he felt that he was just ‘That Guy That’s Here As A Favor’. And that look he had, how Horuss watched him as if he fully expected nothing in return tugged at something in him.

 

No way. He couldn’t just leave things like this, right? A gift for a gift, and hey, maybe someone could get a bit of this Ampora’s lovin after all?

 

Tucking the newly acquired item into his pocket, Cronus leaned close to his boss, smile shifting into a sultry grin. They had the place to themselves at that point, right? Everyone else was gone, no one else to cater to, so there was no reason they couldn’t have a party of their own. Guy like Horuss could probably use the attention.

 

As he spoke, Cronus’ eyes drifted down his chest, already imagining what lay under that silly horse shoe print Christmas sweater, missing the look of first confusion, then fear that flashed across the others expression.

 

But he didn’t say ‘No’. Cronus slid his arms across his shoulders, pulling him down to his level and practically felt the his demeanor shift to something more… Submissive…

 

Fucking score.

 

There’s plenty of time, he reminds him, moving to take his hand and lead the other behind the counter. It’s late, no one is out that time of night, and it’s not like there’s anything better to do home. Just some time to themselves.

 

Horuss doesn’t seem to argue as he follows behind, letting himself be pushed onto the surface that so recently held bottles of sparkling cider. Cronus doesn’t complain. He works his hands under the sweater and undershirt, pushing them up to get a good look at that body he may have had one or two drunk fantasies about.

 

What he’s greeted with is… Surprising, to say the least. Yeah, the muscles were there in all their subtle glory, collarbones that Cronus had the strongest desire to cover in marks, but that’s just it. There were already marks. Fades scars that had him believing the shiver that passed over Horuss was more than just anticipation or a sudden chill.

 

But that wasn’t going to stop him. As his thumb brushed across what looked like an old rope burn, Horuss whimpered, legs spreading slightly. His glasses were over his eyes again and… Well, Cronus didn’t care about that. He was getting ready to give Horuss a hell of a Christmas gift and he seemed more than eager to accept it. Cronus just might have to rough him up a bit, too, judging by how he looked just under the shirts. Someone looked to like it rough and he wasn’t one to disappoint.

 

Cronus told Horuss how good he looked for a guy that never seemed to do much, lips moving across his collar as his hands caressed those hipbones of his, slowly working inward to rub at his crotch, to get a feel for that slowly growing bulge. It felt… Promising.

 

Again, Cronus missed the look of discomfort on Horuss’ face as he drug his teeth across his skin, as he bit him, lapping at the area when he heard a whimper and left his own mark. Horuss twitched under the hands on him, which only got him chided in response, pants coming undone and pulled to his knees.

 

Promising he was indeed.

 

The man wasn’t lacking by any means as Cronus stroked him, but it seemed like getting fully hard would take more than a little coaxing by hand. With a trail of dragging teeth, darkening marks, and whispered praises of the the others physique, Cronus began to lavish the still hardening member with attention. His tongue slides along the underside of his thick shaft, leaving a glistening strip of spit in it’s wake. Almost coyly, he flicked across the head of his cock, swirling it around before pulling it between his lips to suck gingerly at, before pulling away, stroking him for a moment as he comments on how hard he’s gotten now. How much he must enjoy having his dick sucked. Or, he added, smirking as he kissed lower, nuzzling at his sack before licking across it, maybe Horuss just really enjoyed the sight of him with his cock in hand?

 

No one could deny Cronus knowing his way around a cock, either by practicing on his own, or the few people that decided to throw him a bone here and there. Honestly, he would probably practice with his shouty friend if he wasn’t so respectful of his wishes. He wasn’t a bad guy, after all. Just kind of oblivious.

 

Like now, as he suckled on one testicle, then the other, not minding the bit of dark hair that covered them (he’d had worse), he didn’t realize the effect his actions were having, though it wasn’t all his fault. How was he to notice that Horuss’ breathing was just a bit quicker, that his eyes were darting around behind those glasses, looking everywhere but at him? Even when he moved lower still, free hand spreading those firm cheeks apart, prodding his entrance with his tongue, Cronus took the tightening grip on the counter as a good thing.

 

It wasn’t until his fingers brushed a patch of raised skin that he paused for even a second. Eyes opening, the Ampora shifted, thighs rubbing together to try and adjust to his own arousal, nudging Horuss just enough to see what was without a doubt, an old burn mark in the shape of a pair of fairy wings. A brand.

 

So he was into that hardcore shit! He turned a shaky, if knowing smile up at him, which was slowly returned. Yeah, it was great to know he was right, but fuck, man. Branding? Cronus doubted he could stomach that kinda stuff. Biting and scratching, cuffs, shit like that was more his bag.

 

Again, though, there was no resistance as Cronus corrected their positions again, worked a finger into him as he commented on how tight he was, how much he must really be into this shit from how he was whimpering, how his cock started to drool. A quick apology for keeping him waiting, and his lips wrapped around him again, earning a whine, another hidden look of panic.

 

And all Cronus could think was how he probably had his eyes shut in pleasure as he took more of him, until the thick head of his cock was pressed against the back of his throat and he had to pull back to get a breath before pressing on again, tongue rubbing against the underside as he worked him. When he felt Horuss slip into his throat, there were dual groans from each of them, Cronus’ were pleased, while Horuss’ were more… reluctant.

 

It wasn’t much longer after that when Cronus felt Horuss clamping down against his fingers as they worked inside him, thrusting in after a bit of stretching with each bob of his head. When a low groan graced his ears, punctuated by a creak of wood from the pale-knuckled grip he held the counter with, Cronus pulled back in time to feel his mouth flood with hot, sticky cum, which he promptly swallowed down. He had to show off still, after all. The show wasn’t over yet. Fingers still inside him, Cronus pulled back, grinning up at Horuss as he rubbed at his crotch, cock straining through his jeans.

 

Nice sized load that was, he told him, asking if he could take one as well as he could give because there was still so much more Cronus could do. But his words stopped short when something wet fell on his face, when he saw trails of tears from under his glasses, noticed, for once, how tense the other was from how the counter continued to creak.

 

Shit, man… He wasn’t that good, was he? Never brought anyone to tears….

 

But that wasn’t it. Almost as quiet as the creaking, Horuss spoke, just one word.

 

He asked him to stop.

 

To stop. When they were just getting started? Cronus asked what was up, fingers slowly pulling back and out. Did he need a breather? Water? What was his deal? He couldn’t be having second thoughts on this shit, that normally came the next morning. But Horuss shook his head, the motion almost unnoticeable, and asked again for him to stop. Told him no more. He just… Couldn’t. The only thing steady was the grip he hand on the wood as Cronus straightened up, looking lost.

 

Fine, fine, they could stop. Scratching the back of his head, Cronus looked around. What now? He was still hard, but… This was off. Horuss was off. And that grip was going to break something or other sooner or later. Sighing, Cronus rubs at his knuckles, muttering that it was just a little head, nothing to fucking worry about. Horuss didn’t even taste that bad.

 

Which wasn’t the right thing to say, apparently. Horuss flinched back from the touch, roughly pushing at Cronus, knocking him to the floor as he got to his feet, pulling his pants up, shouting no, shouting that he said no more. Please, no more. That he was good, that he would be good, just… No more.

 

Cronus just scooted back. What the actual fuck? He only touched the guy! What was he talking about, being good? He wasn’t down for this shit. He only wanted to go home before it got too late when a gift was shoved on him and he decided to return the favor. Babysitting wasn’t in the job description.

 

Still, though… It wasn’t like he could leave him… When Horuss seemed to settle down, at least a little by how he just slumped to the ground, pulling his knees to his chest, Cronus made his way to the opposite side of the counter, moving awkwardly with the pressure still in his pants before retreating into the back room. Several minutes passed before he returned, bottle of water in hand with their coats thrown over his arm. He had taken a moment to clean himself up a little, washed his face, his hands, rinsed his mouth out. He had even grabbed some damp cloths for his impromptu partner, passing him those and the water before asking if he calmed down any.

 

There was a moments pause before Horuss uncurled himself and the sight was down right pathetic. His glasses had been pushed up and it was clear he had hastily wiped his eyes from how red they were. Good thing he got the cloths, which were taken first as he cleaned his face, wiped his neck. The water was taken next, gulped down to less than half in moments. Whatever was wrong was very wrong. But Cronus stay put, irritated, but waiting.

 

When Horuss finished the bottle, he set it aside, lowering his glasses again, but not returning to his previous position. He apologized, for whatever reason, again, and again, and again until Cronus had to ask him what for.

 

For making him stop, he said. He knew better. He knew he shouldn’t have asked, but he did. Never speak out, never say ‘no’. He knew better, he was taught better. ‘No’ is wrong. Shouldn’t be in his vocabulary. ‘No’ was ungrateful and deserving of punishment. ‘No’ meant that he didn’t love him.

 

Love, though? Hesitantly, Cronus reached out again, touching the others shoulder and glad the response wasn’t as violent. Who the hell said anything about love? It was just Holiday Head. A ‘Thank you’ for a cool gift. It didn’t mean anything. Horuss wanted to stop there, and, well… Cronus could complain, but he wouldn’t. He asked what he was talking about, though. Who taught him that ‘no’ was bad? Even he wasn’t that big of a scumbag.

 

There was a moment of silence that followed his words, so tense, Cronus had to check that Horuss was still breathing. He loved him, were his next words, careful, practiced, as if someone was listening, was going to grade him. Cronus could feel his gaze through those lenses as Horuss turned to face him.

 

Rufioh loved him very, very much. Was the only one to ever love him, that would ever love him. He couldn’t deny him, because that would be to deny his love. He couldn’t push him away, because that would upset him, because that told Rufioh his love, his care, his attention was unwanted, that Horuss was too good for him.

 

But he wasn’t. Rufioh was the world to him. Rufioh showed Horuss a special love. Each mark was special, because that showed him, showed others, that he was all his. That’s why he bore his mark. Because no one would ever touch Horuss and make him feel as loved as he could. They could try, but every touch would just make him ache for the other.

 

But… He left… Rufioh… Left him. For days, Horuss stayed in the apartment they shared, kneeling in his corner, refusing to eat or drink or even retire to the restroom unless the need was dire in case it was another test of his. But he didn’t return. The next person through the door had been a friend, having come look for him. Horuss still couldn’t remember how long ago that was, but his teachings still stuck with him.

 

And Cronus felt sick. That wasn’t healthy. That wasn’t normal. That was… What was stronger than disgusting? Shuddering, he sat next to the blue eyed man, draping a coat across his shoulders but otherwise keeping to himself.

 

He didn’t deserve that, he told him. Horuss didn’t answer, but faced forward again. Deserved better. So much better.

 

More silence.

 

Cronus apologized, for pushing him. For making him uncomfortable. For missing those signals.

 

Silence.

 

This was getting nowhere, but Cronus kept talking. How he had thought Horuss was kind of weird at the start, but was pretty decent all around. How, as much as he complained, he liked it there. Gave him time to think, a chance to talk to folks. He didn’t bring up the scars, what happened between them, what happened in the past. He didn’t want to think about it and he was damn sure Horuss didn’t either.

 

His one-sided conversation was interrupted by the chime of his phone. Weather bulletin announcing the roads would be closed until 6am due to the severe and sudden drop in temperatures, and all were to stay indoors until then.

 

Fuck.

 

Tucking his phone away again, Cronus gave his boss a sheepish smile. Looks like they would be there overnight, and he honestly hadn’t meant to stay that long. Moving to get to his feet, he said something about finding Horuss a place to crash, that they could probably line the chairs up in the back to make a bed, but his coat would have to be a blanket. It was something, though, however, before he could stand, he felt a hand on his sleeve.

 

Horuss was still looking away, but it was he that gave Cronus pause, as if it could have been anyone else. Quietly, he muttered his thanks. For listening. For… Understanding. Before Cronus could say anything to that, Horuss was up, shoulders slumped, but looking a little better, all things considered, as he made his way to the back.

 

This was going in Cronus’ books as the most fucked up Christmas ever, but… He did feel closer to the other. That was something, right?


End file.
